Christmas is coming as you finish off the last things bits of shopping you need to take you into the New Year. The shops begin to look a bit beaten up now with the many that have traipsed through all their aisles and certainly the bargains of the season are left only with bright decals below empty shelves, showing once what was there. The weather turns, giving in to the snows of the season and adds to the shivery festive feeling of what promises to be a really happy time of the year. You imagine the faces that light up on the day of giving; you imagine the warm conversations with friends not seen for a while, the parties, the music and the fun. You wrap up well, comforted by the images of all these possibilities knowing that you have prepared for it as best as you can.
But homeward bound, in the cold and the wet, capturing one of the few dry spots that litter the street the bright images of the shops you see a shadowy figure, silent and alone. In the most uncomfortable of poses, painted in amongst the inhospitality of climate a person sits, managing possibly solely by stillness to remain as warm as humanly possible, a model of a dilemma enters your existence.
A person on the street? In a time like this? What’s wrong with them? Have they dropped out of society? How dare they contrast the hopes of Christmas! Are they lazy? Given up work? Good for nothing and hanging around draining the charity of the season? This is a modern world. Filled with iPads, iPods and iPhones, Disney products, nice clothes and warm homes. Why would anyone choose to be here? The most charitable and the less stupid will walk on by and ignore this soul, because it doesn’t fit – this isn’t a Third world after all.
Time stops…
You have an era to investigate everyone one of your thoughts and a lifetime to investigate your preconceived notions as to why any of them were asked. An infinite number of groundhog moments are there until you work through exactly the conclusion your spirit requires. Realising ultimately that we are still in ancient times, nothing has really changed but the decorations of life. You are that person unless you figure out a way of preventing their pain. It is entirely yours…
How can you best your moments of existence, giving only that which you wish you could always receive? What small details of actions in everything you do can provide the maximum gain for both you and the stranger? You essentially need the same things but have different experiences and abilities; does that mean there should be a difference?
The glass of life is raised to those that in the party, in the good times, have made a difference…